Mother, Daughter All-girl Getaway

As my 4-year-old daughter, Acadia, and I prepared to cross Vancouver's Capilano Suspension Bridge, the longest and highest of its kind in the world, I cautioned her not to look 230 feet down into Capilano River Canyon. After taking a few tentative steps along the 450-foot-long expanse, she got her bearings on the jiggly-Jell-O walkway and began to soak up the misty wonders of the temperate rain forest that surrounded us.

``I'm not even scared,'' Cady said, as she let go of my hand and took a few solo steps.

Cady has an 18-month-old brother, Hudson, but we had left him home with Dad for our inaugural trip to Canada. Though our family of four nearly always travels together, I'd felt an intense desire to get away with her for some one-on-one time, which had practically evaporated since her curly haired sibling arrived.

In October, Cady and I flew to Florida's St. Pete Beach for the weekend, and that girls-only trip convinced me she could handle a week away in late January in British Columbia's cosmopolitan city by the sea. From what I'd heard, the spot was particularly spectacular, offering balmy (by New England standards at the time) 40-degree temps, plentiful outdoor recreation (locals like to boast you can ski within sight of Vancouver and be on the water catching spring salmon within 30 minutes), abundant culture (we planned to celebrate Chinese New Year, a festive spectacle in a city with North America's third-largest Chinatown), first-class kid attractions, and lush natural wonders courtesy of frequent, brief rains. What's more, the strength of the U.S. dollar meant we'd get 30 percent off every expense.

As we stepped into the Living Forest exhibit on the far side of the gorge, Cady joined other young visitors at hands-on displays of native flora and fauna. Slurping up to 97 inches of rain annually, the old-growth Western red cedars, hemlocks, spruce and Douglas fir that tower up to 250 feet in the blue-gray sky exude a dewy, otherworldly aura straight out of a fairy tale. Since our previous experience with rain forests was limited to the automated ambience of Westfarms' Rainforest Cafe, the smell of the damp, fertile earth and feel of centuries-old bark inspired Cady to ask, ``Is this real?''

Throughout our trip, we were awed by the area's vastness. Compared with New England's tiny train-layout villages, Vancouver seemed like home of the giants, with towering trees and totem poles, majestic Coast Mountains, and expansiveness (home to 2 million people, Greater Vancouver encompasses 18 municipalities). The setting seemed like the perfect backdrop to celebrate a big milestone. In just a few weeks, I would be turning 40, an occasion I had decided to mark by living large.

In my dreams, I had imagined that I, like Homer Simpson (during ``The Simpsons'' rock-'n'-roll fantasy camp episode), would mark my birthday by jamming on a Fender alongside Mick and Keith, but that opportunity hadn't presented itself. Instead, I decided Vancouver would become my personal fantasy camp. On our agenda: a dolphin encounter with a trainer at the Vancouver Aquarium; ice skating atop 3,700-foot-high Grouse Mountain; an evening ghost tour through the historic Fairmont Hotel to search for the resident apparition, the Lady in Red; and a 40-minute flight to Vancouver Island so I could take surfing lessons with a women-run outfit, Surf Sister (if Sheryl Crow could learn to surf at 40 for her ``Soak Up the Sun'' video, why not I?); and enjoy a vanilla-scented massage at the rustically elegant Wickaninnish Inn. Just looking at our lineup made me feel like a spring free-range chicken.

Kung Hei Fat Choy

One of our cab drivers referred to Vancouver as the New York City of the West Coast, but it had a whole different buzz. Instead of an electric frenzy, Vancouver's air was relaxed, sophisticated and frequently funky. In the arty Kitsilano neighborhood, we discovered KidsBooks, the biggest children's bookstore we'd ever seen. As we poked around the attractively organized shelves, we discovered dozens of multicultural stories, which underscored my impression of Canada as a tolerant world neighbor. In fact, during the trip we learned that half of Vancouver's school-age children have been raised speaking a language (from Punjabi to Tagalog) other than English.

After chatting with Cady, a friendly clerk helped us select several items I'd never seen in the States, including ``Stella, Fairy of the Forest'' (about a spunky redhead and her kid brother) by Canadian writer Marie-Louise Gay, children's songs by Canadian singer Charlotte Diamond, and a book about the Chinese New Year.